


it's your soul that i'm caught in

by sunfreckled



Series: all i want is to feel again [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Emotions, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, i really don't know what to tag i'm sorry, lots of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 03:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19862758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunfreckled/pseuds/sunfreckled
Summary: He hasn't been inside the apartment building in a year. Still, he swears he can recall the exact smell of the hallway and hear familiar sounds coming from the apartments in his mind. He can see the interior when he closes his eyes, feel how it felt to put in the key into the right door and pull the door open. He can feel stepping inside, familiar sight opening before him, familiar scent floating in the air. Home.Dan's eyes fly open, his breathing quickening as a wave of nostalgia washes over him, nearly making him choke on nothing. There are so many feelings locked inside his heart, and he's afraid they are breaking loose. He doesn't know if he can survive even half of them.It's been a year since they broke up, and Dan wants to pick up the pieces.





	it's your soul that i'm caught in

**Author's Note:**

> 11 months without publishing a single fic they come back with... another angsty fic, it seems. Blame this one on @panlesters; she inspired me to continue this series and perhaps even bring it to an end sometime soon. You're welcome.
> 
> (Title is from Little Mix's song "Pretend it's OK".)

Dan stares out of the car window at the apartment building, a sigh escaping through his dry lips.

He's been there too many times before. Sitting in a cab, staring out at the building while arguing with himself in silence. He's been there so many times doing the same exact thing, that he thinks at least half of London's cab drivers must think he's out of his mind somehow.

Dan sneaks a glance at the driver in the front; he's tapping the steering wheel without saying a word or even looking back there through the rear-view mirror, clearly letting his customer to take his time. It's the first time anyone has said absolutely nothing to him as he continues to go through the mental battle of whether or not he should get out of the cab and into the street.

Most times he's there, he just sits in the car for a while until a concerned driver catches his attention with a question of if he's okay or not, or something along those lines. More often than not, Dan tells them a new address and lets his gaze slide away from the building, silently promising himself that he won't come back again. He always does.

On a rare occasion, Dan gets up from the car after paying the confused driver and watches the cab disappear behind the curve as he stands in the street, waves of regret and fear flowing through him. People walking past never pay any attention to him; everyone is too busy to even notice him awkwardly standing there for a few minutes before he can move his legs to walk away.

Once, he got to the front door of the building, rested his hand on the handle before releasing it, turning around and running away.

He hasn't been inside the apartment building in a year. Still, he swears he can recall the exact smell of the hallway and hear familiar sounds coming from the apartments in his mind. He can see the interior when he closes his eyes, feel how it felt to put in the key into the right door and pull the door open. He can feel stepping inside, familiar sight opening before him, familiar scent floating in the air. Home.

Dan's eyes fly open, his breathing quickening as a wave of nostalgia washes over him, nearly making him choke on nothing. There are so many feelings locked inside his heart, and he's afraid they are breaking loose. He doesn't know if he can survive even half of them.

He sits in the cab, paralysed, as memories slowly start flooding in, his chest burning like he has been stabbed over and over again. He goes back six months in seconds, to where he's standing frozen on a hotel room's balcony in India, on the phone with Louise. He cannot hear a word she's saying after the first sentences she utters, one of them ringing in his ears on an endless repeat.

“Dan, love. Something's happened, and I think you need to know. Phil's in the hospital.”

Phil is in the hospital. He's hurt. Dan's not there.

_Phil is hurt, and he is not there._

“I’m taking the next flight back,” Dan manages to breathe out as he leans against the balcony’s wall, knuckles white as he grips it to prevent himself from falling to the ground. His body shakes a little as he shuts his eyes tight. He inhales and exhales, the blood in his veins running cold. “I’m coming home.”

His head is filling up with all kinds of catastrophic scenarios, rational thinking far gone. He needs to go home. He needs to go to Phil, make sure he's okay, make sure he's safe. He needs to go to Phil and apologise for everything. It's all his fault.

“Dan, I really think that’s a bad idea. You’re doing so well now. Phil has his family with him, he’s going to be alright. And… It wouldn’t be fair for, for her.”

Dan almost lets out a mixture of a sob and a laugh as he listens to Louise's voice, gentle but unsure, try to convince him to stay where he is. He cannot believe she thinks he's doing well. He cannot believe Louise thinks that he is with _her_. It's what he made her believe, it's his own fault, but to his credit, he has never been nothing more than a terrible liar. Turns out, he's not as bad as he previously thought.

When he and Phil broke up, Dan was destroyed. The only thing that carried him through was therapy, which he already attended thanks to his depression, and one session at a time he took more control over his life again. He entered group therapy after his therapist's suggestion, and that's where he met her.

They were both left in a bad shape by a break-up and they sought comfort in one another, however, not in the way Louise thought. She was his rock through those rough first couple of months, as he was hers, but there was nothing deeper there than a mutual understanding and a blooming of a close friendship.

Maybe he had phrased it differently when Louise prodded him about her, just to convince her he was doing fine. Maybe he did a little too good of a job at it.

“I… I think you’re right,” Dan eventually exhales, picking up on Louise's relieved breath on the other end of the call. As he slowly calms down from the initial shock, rationality enters his thoughts once again. He's hours away from England. Phil most likely doesn't even want to see him. He can do nothing for him except cause more pain by making an appearance, which he doesn't want to do.

He needs to stay where he is. He needs to let time heal their wounds.

“Hey mate, I don’t want to bother you… But, you okay?”

Dan snaps back to reality, his gaze slowly turning to the rear-view mirror, where he can see the concerned face of his cab driver. He would feel embarrassed if he could concentrate on any feeling other than his heart aching.

“Um, yeah. I’m fine, thanks. I’ll be getting out now,” he speaks tentatively, his voice quiet and deep, and shoves more than enough notes to the driver, before he opens the door and stands up.

The cab drives off with the driver most likely wondering what the hell that exchange was all about, and Dan's left on the side of the street alone. He doesn't know where he gets the courage, but he walks up to the building door as he sees someone exit and slips in, turning his face to avoid being recognised. He does not want to see an old neighbour and have them start asking him questions about where he has been.

Dan stands in the hallway, listening to the silence, and sniffs the air. The familiarity is a slap to the face; he never got that far before. He's inside the building. There's only some stairs between him and the door to the apartment. The thought terrifies him.

No matter how frozen his mind is, his legs know the way. They lead him up, up, up the stairs until he's faced with the door he slammed behind him exactly a year ago. Their seventh anniversary. Perhaps their last one.

Dan takes in a deep breath, his brain feeling a little fuzzy. In slow motion, he watches as his hand rises from his pocket to the door, his knuckles colliding with it exactly three times.

He holds his breath and waits. He hears footsteps come down the stairs, feet banging against the steps.

The door creaks as it opens.

Dan exhales.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please do leave kudos/comments if you feel like it! You can find me on Tumblr at @enbydnp. The fic post is [here](https://enbydnp.tumblr.com/post/186385374565/its-your-soul-that-im-caught-in-summary-dans); likes/reblogs are obviously not required but deeply appreciated.


End file.
